


God. Duty. Honour. Country. Friendship.

by finch (afinch)



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-23
Updated: 2009-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-05 02:40:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afinch/pseuds/finch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Speirs stood, and nodded. He walked four steps, then spun back around, "You don't think you're a bad soldier, do you?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	God. Duty. Honour. Country. Friendship.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sidrin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sidrin/gifts).



> Set after Foy, just after The Breaking Point.

Speirs approached Lipton with a cup of soup, "It's not too warm. Or anything but water, but eat up. We're shipping out soon."

Lipton took the cup and nodded, unsure of what to say. "Thanks," he managed, sipping at the cup. To his intense surprise, Speirs sat down next to him.

"So why'd you join up?"

Lipton nearly choked on his water. "I- what?"

"Join. Paratrooping."

Lipton shrugged, "Long story."

Speirs grinned, "We got nothing but time right now."

Lipton wasn't sure what to think of the questions- there had been early, in the church, and ever since then, Speirs had taken some sort of liking to him. Maybe it was that Speirs had just been promoted, and Lipton had raised moral in Foy. Maybe it was that. Maybe it was there was nothing else to talk about. Maybe it was because Lipton wasn't as terrified of Speirs as the others seemed to be.

"God. Duty. Honour. Country," Lipton shrugged. "My parents were ... my father died when I was ten in a car accident. My mother was also in the car and was paralyzed. And so that left ... well, it left a lot of hard times growing up. I was the oldest in the family, so everyone looked to me to keep the family together."

Speirs looked interested, "Did you join to get away from it all then?"

Lipton laughed, "No, no, it wasn't like that at all. We, uh, we did okay, for the most part. I mean, I was the role model, man of the house, you know, and I uh, went to school for a while, and it was hard. Harder than raising my siblings. And it cost a lot of money." He finished his cup and stayed silent for several moments. "So I saw this thing, saying how hard and elite the paratroopers were, and I thought ... maybe I don't go to school to show my siblings. Maybe I get up, and go to war."

"Wow." Speirs looked shocked. He nudged Lipton's foot with his own, "Must mean they're proud of you, though, right?"

"My mother writes when she can, gives me updates on them. They're flying a flag for me, have a star in the window." He wiped at his face, "This? I made the mistake of telling her about this."

"I learned not to tell my parents anything," Speirs said. "I just mention that all is well. I figure the rest is water under the bridge."

"Like shooting men," Lipton smirked. "I can see why you'd edit that part out."

"It's war. War is hell."

Lipton just nodded. "I don't get how you do it. Have such an ... intensity about you. I guess that's why you get to lead Easy now."

"Ah, you know Winters only gave it to me because I was the first face whose name he knew."

"I think the intensity helps."

Speirs stood, and nodded. He walked four steps, then spun back around, "You don't think you're a bad soldier, do you?"

Lipton looked surprised by the question, "No. I'm not a bad soldier. I'm just not someone who'd want to be like you. Not that intense. Not a war hero."

"Not a war hero!" Speirs scoffed, sitting back down. "Are you mad? Not a war hero? These men, all of us, we wouldn't be here without your quiet sense of duty and compassion. You do more for these men than I do. They're terrified of me, and that works, for me leading Easy, that more than works. I need them to listen to me without questioning, without talking about my incompetence. Without anything."

"I don't run across enemy lines," Lipton said. "I don't kill men as wantonly as you do. I mean, I laughed, back there, with the explosions. It was like ... like the fourth of July back home. I used to take my siblings, up the hill, to the best spot, and we'd lay on our backs and point out the colours to each other. I miss that. I miss them. And then there was screaming, and bullets, and it was war, and you're right, it's hell. I just want to do my job, get out of here, go back home, see my siblings go through college, and hope the world stays at peace long enough so my siblings don't have to go to war."

Speirs nodded, "I guess I grew up with my parents, we lived overseas for a while- Scotland, then moved to New England. I was always the best kid at sports, always won my fights. So when the war came up, it was only natural that I sign up. And the whole point of war is to kill as many of the Germans as possible."

He thought about it, then added, "And as for running across enemy lines, well, what can I say, Lipton? Clearly I'm crazy."

"Addled."  
"Insane."  
"A loony."

"And in need of sleep."

"We all need sleep," Lipton said. "And we all have lukewarm water to look forward to in the morning."

Speirs gestured towards the ground, at his pack, "You mind if I spread my stuff out? It's nice to talk to you, Lipton. Nice to not have someone go scooting away when I come looking for a place to sleep."

Lipton shrugged, "As long as you don't pop me for talking in my sleep."

Speirs grinned, "You talk?"

"Only sometimes. Mostly to my siblings."

Speirs sat, "And what do you say?"

Lipton's ears turned red, "Tell them to keep up with their school work, not give mom a hard time. Keep up with the housework. Don't antagonise each other. Everything that I can't do while I'm there."

"I imagine you're a lot to them like what you are to the men here- someone to look up to, someone who can keep on track, stop problems, stuff like that," Speirs said.

Lipton nodded, "And you? What are you like at home?"

"I don't have a huge family like yours to have look up to me. Just got the medals to rack up."

"I think both our mothers would be happy if we didn't come home with Purple Hearts."

"You have one, don't you?"

Lipton rubbed at his face, "How I got this. And still I'm here. Lucky to have survived Foy. So much for fireworks."

"So much for fireworks," Speirs repeated. "We'll get through it, Lipton. Hitler can't last that much longer."

"We'll get through it," Lipton repeated, softly.

**Author's Note:**

> Many, many many thanks to my beta, for an exceptionally fast beta job!


End file.
